


Chapter 6 - Picking up the Pieces

by MetaVirus



Series: Duty [6]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 21:39:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4721432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetaVirus/pseuds/MetaVirus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurapika leads the group along on horseback with Leorio and some of their best body guards. The group is flanked by the leftover soldiers, some on horseback others walking on foot, while Killua takes up the rear solo. Killua had insisted it be so since he would be the only one to notice an attack from behind anyways (that being his speciality). Kurapika acquiesced to his request easily as exhaustion weighed him down like a heavy rain would the leaves of a tree. He was even kind enough to lend Killua a horse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chapter 6 - Picking up the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lesetoilesfous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lesetoilesfous/gifts).



> I made the word count this week! I will apologize for not making up last week's lack of words. I've been very busy with work and I'm moving this Sunday so tying up everything has been a bit stressful. In any case, I had fun writing this week's chapter!

                Morning breaks along the horizon, illuminating the ruins of Kurapika of the Kurta’s once beautiful castle. There’s still smoke trailing up into the sky from the ashes of the burnt nightingale floors.

                “The garden must be in ruins…” Kurapika trails off. Leorio was surprised the Daimyo hadn’t broken down into tears yet from the loss, but he supposes it’s not the worst thing to happen to Kurapika.

                “The courtyard is the inner most sanctum Kurapika, I’m sure something survived the fire,” Leorio tries to reason.

                “Even so, the smoke will have suffocated anything that was not burned to ash,” Kurapika says.

They were deep within the Kurta’s castle, close to the garden, so that even Leorio knows that what Kurapika says is true. The smell of ash burns his nostrils at each careful inhale Leorio takes. He looks at Kurapika whose face was now being deeply marked with a frown.

                “Gon,” Kurapika says, “I’m worried for him.”

                “It seems that Killua is too,” Leorio notes.

                “He pulled him out of the fire, Leorio,” Kurapika says.

                “Perhaps he is as trustworthy as Gon says, although I still think that his loyalties should lie with you rather than some assassin bastard,” Leorio laughs.

Things were looking bleak. Part of the castle was unusable due to the fire, reinforcements were non-existent while right now the castle was in the perfect condition to be taken by bandits or any wandering soul with a skillful sword. Kurapika hums and slides closer to Leorio. He leans onto Leorio’s shoulder and breathes a heavy sigh.

                “Just for a moment,” says Kurapika.

                “Of course, Kurapika,” Leorio says. He smiles weakly but his mind is clouded with worry. What was to become of them now that fate has dealt them such a hand? Leorio feels the day’s hard work catch up to him as he notes the tightness of his muscles and the heaviness of his eyes.

                “Who’s guarding?” Leorio asks.

                “Killua offered, and considering the circumstances I allowed it,” Kurapika answers.

                “I must sleep,” Leorio says, “there will be much to do come morning.”

                “Doctor!” a voice yells from the other room which was full of the wounded.

                “I lied, there is much to do _now,_ ” says Leorio with a laugh. He may have seemed absolutely exhausted but Kurapika knew he truly loved his line of work even if it had its drawbacks. After Leorio leaves to check the wounded, Kurapika sits alone in a chamber, mind numbed and completely at a loss. Leorio comes crashing in a moment later,

                “Gon’s awake!”

* * *

 

                The morning comes slow but finally most of the wounded are able to walk on their own for the travel to the mountains. Gon is with them since he is still too weak to wear his armor. His face is ashen with soot but there’s a sunny smile on his face even though his body’s current state was still one of the worst among them.

                Kurapika leads the group along on horseback with Leorio and some of their best body guards. The group is flanked by the leftover soldiers, some on horseback others walking on foot, while Killua takes up the rear solo. Killua had insisted it be so since he would be the only one to notice an attack from behind anyways (that being his speciality). Kurapika acquiesced to his request easily as exhaustion weighed him down like a heavy rain would the leaves of a tree. He was even kind enough to lend Killua a horse.

                “Killua!” Gon exclaims as he notices the assassin at the end of the pack. He slows down his walk so as to leave the wounded and join the assassin. “Leorio told me you pulled me out of the fire!”

                “Y-yeah,” Killua stutters. He hadn’t seen Gon since Leorio had spoken to him and Kurapika about Gon’s hand, the one that now fell useless at Gon’s side. Killua didn’t ask, he was scared to, especially since he already knew the answer. He didn’t want to make Gon say it, it would be like accepting it. Besides, maybe time will heal, at least that’s what Gon would say; that it was alright, and that maybe he can twitch his fingers.

Killua dismounts his white horse to walk alongside Gon.

                “Hey idiot, you shouldn’t be with me at the back; it’s dangerous,” Killua says.

                “It won’t be if I’m with you,” Gon replies with a smile. He’s swinging his arms wide like a child as they trudge along the path Kurapika and Leorio are leading them on.

“How long is this journey anyways Gon?” Killua asks.

“Up the mountain?” Gon hums, “At least three days.”

“We’re moving too slow, we’ll be attacked,” Killua says.

“Good thing you’re with us then!” Gon exclaims. Killua fights the urge to smack his face and scoffs.

“I wouldn’t trust me so much,” Killua says.

“You did save my life Killua,” Gon says.

When Killua doesn’t reply Gon jogs to get in front of Killua and walks backwards so he can still face the assassin.

                “You’re amazing y’know,” Gon says. Killua feels his face heat up and to disguise it he mounts the white stallion again.

                “Don’t say such stupid things,” Killua says.

                “But it’s true.”

* * *

 

                Gon had his sword drawn and held his strong square stance as Hisoka stood before him. Gon couldn’t fault him for doing what was in his interests, even if it was planting bombs in the Daimyo’s already weakened castle, but it was against his honor to let Hisoka go without a fight. Gon welcomed any challenge in any case.

                Hisoka stood unarmed, at least to Gon’s eye. Gon was sure that like Killua, Hisoka was carrying innumerable weapons underneath the thin cloth he wore.

                “Ohhh Gon,” Hisoka calls out in a moan.

Gon rushes forward for an honest strike at the head, which is easily side-stepped by Hisoka, he finds himself spinning around to make sure that Hisoka stays within his sights. Gon starts a quick succession of strikes which all are easily deflected, but he doesn’t lose steam, he breathes with each strike, a harsh exhale like a hiss following each slice of his masamune sword.

SHH

SHH

SHH

Gon strikes, head, side, neck, head, neck, wrist, side, but Hisoka easily deflects the path of his sword. In a flash there’s now a short double edged blade, along with a shorter curved blade from the same hilt in Hisoka’s right hand. The hilt of the blade had a length of rope attached to it along with a small thin metal disk. Gon had never battled against a kyoketsu-shoge user but it felt like his heart only pumped more adrenaline into his tan body.

                Now each strike was met with the high singing of metal against metal. Gon was surprised that Hisoka’s blade could withstand his masamune sword, but after another strike he realized that hisoka wasn’t meeting his hits, but deflecting them in a manner so that he would expend more energy. Gon stepped back and breathed heavily.

                “What’s wrong? I still haven’t moved a step from where I started,” Hisoka taunts.

                “Eh? Really?!” Gon says in surprise “Gahhhhh damn it all! Just you wait!”

Gon feels the exhaustion from putting all his power in every strike. Perhaps if he included some feints since he didn’t have to hit with every movement? Gon renews his energy and went in for another frontal attack. This time he added a lot of feints and was quick to circle Hisoka in a failed attempt to flank him.

                As Gon’s energy reaches his peak he has a sudden flash of inspiration; after he feints a few more strikes, he digs a foot into the ground and kicks up a cloud of dirt. Gon didn’t see the surprise on Hisoka’s face as he finally successfully circled the other man and felt his blade sink into flesh. A hiss of surprise and pain comes from Hisoka but before Gon could celebrate his sword is ripped from his grips and thrown across the garden by the thin disk that was attached to Hisoka’s rope.

                “You’re quite interesting Gon~” Hisoka coos, “but I don’t have time to play with you right now.”

As a few guards who were passing by start running towards Hisoka yelling,

“STOP! INTRUDER!”

 he lights a small bomb and throws it towards them. Gon without thinking goes to grab the bomb in hopes of chucking it into the pond but there is a sudden flash and then a furious pain running up his arm from his hand to his elbow.

* * *

 

The walk is long and treacherous. The path up the mountain constantly forces the Daimyo’s followers to break formation for something more suitable for the small paths or thick forests. The guards try to remain vigilant but their focus is breaking; the horses pulling the carts of wounded and supplies are beginning to huff and puff irregularly; but it isn’t until Leorio suggests it out of worry for the wounded how couldn’t fit in the carts that Kurapika signals for them to make camp.

Numerous samurai drop their belongings dramatically and heave their bodies towards the carts of supplies for the equipment to make tents. First they would put a tent up for the Daimyo, but of course Kurapika refuses it and allows some of the wounded to use it. The soldiers put up more and more tents, the wounded taking priority followed by the unwounded workers. One of them makes another large tent for Kurapika which isn’t refused as Kurapika is now about to faint from stress. Kurapika retires to his tent along with Leorio after instructing the guards on how the watch will proceed.

“Allow me,” Killua offers to Kurapika.

“Which watch shift would you like, Killua?” Kurapika asks.

“All of them,” Killua answers.

“I beg your pardon?” Kurapika says in surprise.

“I’ve trained to be able to go days without losing focus or fainting. One full night on a watch shift won’t affect me at all,” Killua explains.

Too tired to fight with Killua, Kurapika allows him to do so. Killua gets the post behind the camp which all the guards watch in wonder at the stranger who their Daimyo seems to have already accepted into their ranks so easily. It reminded them of how Gon had first joined Kurapika of the Kurta. It was sudden but the Daimyo trusted Gon so easily and freely. It was as if one day Gon was a wandering soul, and the next he was a high ranking samurai serving a respectable lord.

                Gon joins Killua on his watch even though Killua insists that Gon should rest. Gon lies on his back as Killua sits at attention, watching the darkness of the woods in front of him. The night is dark and the insects are loud in the silence. Killua could hear the breathing of all the camp inhabitants along with the shuffling of the horses.

                Gon sighs through his nose. His left hand hurts, it was a throbbing pain, waves of pins and needles that made just existing uncomfortable. He tried to move it but even a twitch made lightning shoot through his veins. Instead of thinking about that Gon looks over at Killua. He notices the way Killua’s sharp eyes stares unflinchingly in the darkness like a cat might, it made Gon wonder if there was something Killua could see that he could not. Gon followed Killua’s gaze into the night and saw nothing.

                Killua stands, his eyes narrowing at the trees beyond.

                “Come out,” Killua says. It is but a whisper but the other heard because a young child comes out from behind a tree.

                “Kalluto,” Killua acknowledges, “Father and Mother would never let you follow me. Why are you here?” Killua asks.

                “Come back home onii-chan,” says Kalluto.

Gon watches the two siblings. He could see the resemblance, both with striking, sharp features and lips that curled even when they didn’t want them to. Kalluto’s hair was cut short into a bob, his slim form in a purple kimono which caught Gon off guard. He had simply assumed all ninjas wore the same cut of cloth as Killua did.

                “I cannot, Kalluto,” Killua says. He widens his stance in preparation.

                “Then I will take you home,” Kalluto says.

                “Do you think you can beat me?” Killua asks.

                “You are stronger than me, but you are weak to those you love,” Kalluto says just before he strikes. The movement was too fast for Gon to see in his weakened state but he doesn’t attempt to get to his feet. Gon can see that Kalluto carries some sort of fan that he used as a weapon, the edges made of sharp metal. The blows they exchanged were quick and quiet, the only sound was their limbs tangling as Kalluto tried his best to land a blow hard enough to incapacitate his elder brother or create a wound large enough that Killua would suffer blood loss.

                “Kalluto go home to Mother,” Killua says.

                “I do not want to brother,” Kalluto answers.

                “You are her favourite, you’ll break her heart if something happens to you,” Killua reasons.

                “You are wrong, you are the favourite. Mine as well, so please for the sake of the family name return. We all miss you, Illu-nii especially,” Kalluto says.

The mention of Illumi makes Killua hesitate which allows Kalluto to make a shallow cut on the burn on his neck. Killua hisses painfully and Kalluto makes a face of concern.

                “You are wounded,” he states.

                “Wounds make no difference,” Killua says.

                “You sound like Illu-nii,” Kalluto says. There is a moment of silence before Killua replies,

                “Sorry.”

                “Do not apologize,” says Kalluto.

                “I do not wish to be like him, Kalluto,” says Killua.

                “I know,” Kalluto replies.

A stalemate is what this was; Killua was too kind to wound his younger brother and Kalluto was too weak to wound his elder brother. Gon coughed. Kalluto looked towards the tan man.

                “Is this why you left again?” Kalluto asks. Gon looks at Killua confused,

                “Again?”

                “I did not leave because of him, Kalluto,” Killua says but they both know it is a lie. Kalluto shuffles on his gata shoes.

                “Mother is unhappy,” says Kalluto. “She screams every day and cries into the night. Even Father is getting sick of her antics. He may make a move soon if not already,” Kalluto warns. Before Killua can say his thanks, Kalluto has disappeared back into the night. Gon watches as Killua stands at attention for another minute before returning to his spot next to Gon.

                “Family drama?” Gon asks with a smile.

                “Yeah.”

                “I like Kalluto,” Gon admits with a sheepish smile.

                “Me too,” Killua says “I just hope Mother and Father don’t find out that Kalluto has been in contact with me.”

Gon nods in understanding. They both sit in silence as they consider what had just happened. Perhaps this was the calm before the storm. This was the warning that horrible things are to come. The question is whether they will come from in front or behind.


End file.
